


Fighting with the Shadows in Your Head

by Mrs-BobbiWinchester (Skyeward_captasha)



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Relapsing, Self-Harm, at the end it’s lowkey implied that they go off and have sex but it’s nothing overt, body image issues, new york klaine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:54:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22672111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyeward_captasha/pseuds/Mrs-BobbiWinchester
Summary: Kurt gets home one afternoon to find his boyfriend trying to deal with a relapse by himself. He intervenes and cleans him up and they talk, it’s nice and hurt/comfort-y.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel
Comments: 1
Kudos: 66





	Fighting with the Shadows in Your Head

“Blaine? Are you home?” Kurt asked as he began to take off his many layers of outerwear. He took his scarf off and hung it up on the hook, followed shortly by his coat. He left his boots by the door after unlacing them and went looking for Blaine when he didn’t get an answer.

“Blaine? Honey? Your car’s in the driveway, I know you’re here. Where are you?” He paused outside the bathroom door, which was shut. The light was on, with a shadow blocking some of the light from escaping underneath the door.

“Blaine? You OK?” 

“I’m fine! Just—give me a minute,” Blaine said, sounding out of breath and startled.

“Okay, honey. I’ll be in the bedroom, but if you’re not out of there in 5 minutes I’ll be back.”

He retreated to their bedroom and put his work clothes in the hamper, changing into what he liked to wear around the house: high-waisted skinny jeans and an old Dalton hoodie. He sat at the foot of the bed, drumming his fingers anxiously on his thighs while he waited. He checked his watch a few times, trying to give Blaine the benefit of the doubt. 

_Maybe he’s shaving. Maybe he’s shaving down... no, Kurt, now is not the time_.

He gave Blaine 7 minutes before getting up. He knocked on the door gently.

“Sweetheart? I’m getting a little worried. Can you come out of there?”

“I’ll be out in a minute,” Blaine called from inside, his voice muffled like he had something in his mouth. Kurt, against the part of his brain screaming at him to let his boyfriend have his privacy, turned the doorknob and pushed forward, opening the door a tad so he could poke his head in.

Blaine yelped in surprise and dropped the roll of gauze he was holding, sending it falling into the sink. The counter around him was littered with things like polysporin, butterfly strips, hydrogen peroxide, alcohol wipes, and bloody paper towels, making it incredibly obvious what he’d gotten caught doing.

“I-I promise it’s not what it looks like. I tripped coming in and banged my arm against the hook for your bag,” Blaine stammered, starting resolutely at the floor, his eyes glossed over with unshed tears.

“Sit down.” Kurt went into fix-it mode, ignoring the words leaving Blaine’s lips, trying to ignore how his boyfriend began to tremble the closer he got to him.

He reached out and gently took hold of his wrist, clinically inspecting the neat rows of cuts after unwinding the gauze Blaine had started to wrap around his forearm. “None of these look like you’ll need stitches.”

Adding small pieces of tape every couple times around, he began to rewrap Blaine’s wrist. The moments passed in uncomfortable silence, Kurt trying to come up with ways to comfort his boyfriend and Blaine doing everything he could to not burst into tears and apologize for hurting Kurt so much. He knew his cutting didn’t exist in a vacuum. The actions he took had consequences, and he knew that.... mostly. Sometimes he forgot.

“I’m going to grab you a new shirt; I’ll be back,” Kurt whispered and pressed a cheek to Blaine’s forehead before darting off to their bedroom, grabbing a black tee shirt for a band neither of them liked, and helping him get it over his head.

In the brief few moments that Blaine was without his top, Kurt took note of the marks on his chest and stomach that looked like they’d been done with his fingernails. All of the cuts he’d bandaged had been fresh, a stark contrast to the thick white scars he hid under his watch. Blaine hadn’t cut in 6 years before that day.

“Kurt, I’m so sorry. I don’t even know how this happened-“ Blaine started, his voice cracking multiple times and his eyes squeezed shut to try and stop his tears from falling.

“It’s okay. Let me clean up the counter and then we can talk about this. I don’t want this to stain.” Kurt kissed his forehead a few times, clustering them just above his eyebrows.

“I’ll put everything away.” Blaine got up off the closed toilet and began to put everything he’d bought on impulse that afternoon away in the medicine cabinet. He winced when his bandaged arm brushed against the cabinet door but hid his grimace the best he could.

_You’re the reason that hurts, stupid. If you hadn’t gone and thrown all your progress away, then you wouldn’t be in this position. Kurt’s staring at you with... what’s the word? Pity. He feels bad for you. He thought you’d finally quit for good, but nope. Blaine fucking Anderson, everybody! Can’t deal with his problems like a normal person, so he instead takes a safety razor to his skin and calls it good. You’re such a fucking fuck-up._

His hands began to shake as he put the butterfly strips back in their box, prompting Kurt to reach out and take hold of his wrist gently.

“Hey. None of that, okay? I can see you blaming yourself. How about you let me finish up here and go get yourself a glass of water?” Blaine nodded and pressed a gentle kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek before going out to the kitchen. He got himself a glass of water and sat down on the sofa, staring out the window mindlessly while he sipped on it.

Kurt couldn’t help but let a few tears slip down his cheeks as he cleaned Blaine’s blood off the counter. He knew abstractly that Blaine would be fighting this addiction for the rest of his life, but seeing it when he was struggling was different.

He wiped his face on his sleeve and pulled himself together before going to see Blaine. He walked into the living room and sat next to him, putting an arm over his shoulders and pulling him in for a hug. “What happened?” He asked softly, pulling back to look in his eyes.

“It’s nothing. Just some kids in one of my classes. It’s okay.”

“It’s clearly not okay if it’s making you revert to habits you kicked back in high school, B. Talk to me, please. Don’t shut me out.” He grabbed both his hands and held them tight, his eyes shining with tears.

“They’re all just.... they keep talking about me. How I’ve gained so much weight in the past few months that it’s shocking I still fit into my jeans. How fat and ugly I look next to you. It reminded me a lot of the things my dad used to say.” He sighed and shut his eyes to keep from crying for the second time in 10 minutes while he ran his thumb over the gauze wrapped around his wrist.

“God I’m gonna hit them all. You know none of that is true. You gained a little bit of weight, sure, but nothing noticeable to anyone who wasn’t incredibly familiar with your body. For the record, I didn’t see anything wrong with it. It was... kind of nice..... to have a little bit more to hold onto.” Kurt blushed and looked down at where their hands were joined. It was becoming clearer to him why Blaine hadn’t been in the mood lately.

_If I were being picked on like that I sure as hell wouldn’t want to have sex either._

“No, please don’t get involved. I can handle this on my own. I already talked to Sam and he and I came up with a plan on how to get them to quit. I just.... needed to work through some of my feelings. I’d been planning on calling Dr Saunders, but then I was standing in Walgreens in front of the first aid section and couldn’t stop myself. I’m so sorry. 6 years, all just down the drain because I can’t handle some rude comments. You deserve so much better...”

“No I don’t. And even if I did, it wouldn’t matter. I want _you_ , Blaine. This slip-up doesn’t change how I feel about you. I love you. All of you. Including these,” Kurt’s voice tapered off to a whisper and he brought his boyfriend’s arm up to his face, gently kissing at the scars left uncovered by the gauze.

Blaine flinched and instinctively tried to pull away but forced himself to stay put and let Kurt kiss all over his skin.

  
“I love all of you. I mean it when I say that, B. I love your curls; I love how your entire face lights up when you see me; I love how you stop to pet every dog on the street even though you’re allergic. This didn’t change any of that. Will you please let me show you that?” He looked into Blaine’s eyes and thumbed away the few tears that had escaped from his eyes.

“Yes.”


End file.
